They’re so…Barbie.

~ To form a kick line?

~ To constitute a quorum?

~ To populate a viable sweat shop?

~ To unionize?

~ To be just one too many stinkin’ Barbies?

In college, with the help of the drunken tarts I called friends, I created a prototype for Party Barbie®. She had one broken high heel, chipped nail polish, bruises, Walk of Shame hair, torn clothing, a cigarette glued to her hand (or was it a fatty?), a black eye ~ you get the picture.  Mattel wasn’t interested.  Bunch of stiffs.